He wasn’t here to notice the woman.
He was here to get his son. And he could easily roll over, grab Gena Malone by the leg and end this standoff right now. But he wouldn’t do that. He might be lower than a snake’s belly at times, but he wasn’t one to hurt women. Even the woman who’d kept his son hidden from him.
He’d have to figure out a way to get through the woman before he could take Scotty, because it was obvious this woman loved this child. And that meant she wouldn’t let Scotty go without a fight.
“Okay, let’s start over,” he said. “I’m Eli Trudeau. And you are obviously the lovely, mysterious Gena. Since Devon handpicked you to raise my son, you can’t be all bad.”
Her boot put a little more pressure on his solar plexus. “And since he asked me to keep Scotty safe because he didn’t trust you to raise him, you can’t be all good.”
“Ouch, that hurt.” Eli used humor to hide the real hurt her words inflicted. And thought to himself that maybe she was right. “I’ve changed.”
She stared at him.
LENORA WORTH
has written more than thirty novels, most of those for Steeple Hill Books. She also works freelance for a local magazine, where she has written monthly opinion columns, feature articles and social commentaries. She also wrote for five years for the local paper. Married to her high school sweetheart for thirty-three years, Lenora lives in Louisiana and has two grown children and a cat. She loves to read, take long walks and sit in her garden.
Heart of the Night
Lenora Worth
And he said to them, Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while.
—Mark 6:31
To all the people of Grand Isle, Louisiana.
You are forever in my heart.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION
ONE
“I’ve come for my son.”
The man holding a big battered hand over her mouth had a funny but familiar accent. He smelled of snow and wind, as if he’d been out in the night for a long time. His breath was warm as it fanned her ear and caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand up. His big body was broad and solid as he pulled her against him.
Gena tried to wiggle away, but he held her with an iron grip. So she closed her eyes, her heart rate accelerating as she became trapped in her worst nightmare.
She’d been expecting him.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” the man said, his words as soft as silk. “I’ll let you go if you promise not to scream. I don’t want to frighten him.”
Gena didn’t want to scare her son either. So she nodded and waited for Eli Trudeau to release her.
And then she grabbed underneath the massive arm that had been restraining her and with a grunt and a prayer, she tripped Eli and flipped him over and onto the floor in a perfect takedown. He landed hard on his back with her booted foot centered on his belly.
Eli lay stunned for a few seconds, then let out a groan as he shook his head to clear it. “For sure, I should have known Devon would train you in self-defense. But did you have to try and break my back?”
“Did you have to break into my home just to see your son?”
Well, at least she got right to the point. He liked that in a woman. Even the woman who’d been secretly raising his little boy.
He watched her breath coming fast and furious. “Can you let me up?” he asked in a nice way, with a nice smile, hoping she’d fall for it.
She didn’t. “Why should I let you up? And why should I care that your back might be broken?”
Eli stayed still, the pressure of her boot somewhere near his spleen reminding him that he wasn’t dealing with a girly-girl here. Gena Malone meant business. But then, so did he.
He carefully ticked off the facts inside his head, just to calm himself so he wouldn’t do something stupid like grab her and pin her down, tie her up, then rush to his son’s side.
Gena Malone Thornton. Thirty and widowed. Husband was a CHAIM agent who had been killed somewhere in Europe doing his duty for the Christian organization three months after they’d gotten married. Gena now lived in Maine in this cottage by the Atlantic Ocean and worked from home as a Web page designer. She also rented out two nearby cottages to make extra money.
While she dared him to move, Eli noticed how pretty she was. Her hair was curly and thick and dark, just like Scotty’s. He couldn’t be sure, but he’d guess her eyes were a deep blue like her brother’s. She looked healthy—more curvy than slender in her jeans and long sweater. And lethal in the protective mama mode, no doubt.
Cut that out, Eli told himself. He wasn’t here to notice the woman. He was here to get his son. And he could easily roll over, grab her by the leg and end this standoff right now. But he wouldn’t do that. He might be lower than a snake’s belly at times, but he wasn’t one to hurt a woman. Even the woman who’d been raising his son.
But he’d have to figure out a way to get through the woman before he could see Scotty, because it was obvious this woman loved his child. And that meant she wouldn’t let Scotty go without a fight. Eli should know; he’d sat in the broom closet for over an hour, watching her with Scotty. He’d just have to charm his way into getting what he’d come here for, he reckoned.
“Okay, let’s start over,” he said as he lifted his head. “I’m Eli Trudeau. I just happened to be in the neighborhood and thought I’d stop by to see my son. And you are obviously the lovely, mysterious Gena. Since Devon handpicked you to raise the boy, you can’t be all bad.”
Her boot put a little more pressure on his stomach. “And since he and I made a promise to each other to keep Scotty safe because he didn’t trust you to raise him, you can’t be all that good.”
“Ouch, that hurt.” Eli used humor to hide the real hurt her words inflicted and thought to himself that maybe she was right. “I’ve changed,” he said, trying to hold up his hands in defense. “Honestly.”
“How did you get in?” she asked, not moving and obviously not convinced. “Because I don’t recall inviting you and because I have a pretty good alarm system.”
“Part of the training,” he shot back. “Your system wasn’t good enough to stop me. What does it matter? I’m here now and we’ve been properly introduced, so could I have a cup of coffee at least? And maybe a sandwich? I’m sure hungry.”
She pressed her boot against bone while she mulled over that request.